Please, dear God, do not let me get sick, twist my ankle, have insomnia, or in any way, shape or form, not feel 100% until after this Saturday has passed. Why? Because I have been training for this marathon, dutifully, through the humid summer months, suffered dehydration on 20 mile runs (twice—you think I would have learned), and am putting off foot surgery so I can run it. It really wouldn’t be fair if I came down with an ailment right now. I haven’t been sick at all this past year, so for something to happen, before this 1 day—1 out of 365, would just seem unfair.
And if something happens, it’s not like I can just find another marathon in a few weeks when I feel better. Explanation:
A. Trail marathons are hard to find. Because of my foot that needs surgery, I can’t run on the road. Hence, it would suck for something to happen to me before this Saturday.
B. My foot surgery is the following week. I could re-schedule, I suppose, but refer to A.
I feel like I should quarantine myself right now. I’ve never been so paranoid about my health. Usually, my philosophy is the more germ exposure, the stronger my immune system gets. Not so right now. Bring on the waterless hand sanitizer.
I’m feeling slightly tired right now and that seriously concerns me. Am I getting sick? Do I feel any signs of a sore throat? I think I’m going to go straight to bed when I leave work today. Seriously. Maybe I should call in preventative-sick to work tomorrow so I can stay in bed all day. Just in case.
My paranoia is completely justified. Cullen, who also trained through the humidity and suffered dehydration (twice) is sick. He probably (definitely shouldn’t) run the marathon on Saturday. He says he might race the first half to pace me, drop out, grab his bike, and meet me at the aid stations. I feel horrible for him. How crushing, to put in all this work, and then get sick, right before the race. But, if he does miss it, at least he can find a road one to race.
This will be my first marathon. I think I could run the course trails blindfolded—the race is on the trail system that backs up to Cullen’s house, and I’ve been running those trails weekly for the past year. I love them. I want to crush them in this race. I’ve completely prepared, and I’ve never felt so excited about a race. Usually I rather dread races, but I think a marathon will suite my endurance-style better than the shorter races, so I’m feeling confident.
This race will be my last run (sob) for a long time. The surgery will put me out for, optimistically, three months. No running for three months. I may, optimistically, be able to bike after one month, but considering that Dr. Sawbones is breaking my foot bone, I’m thinking that even if I’ll be able to bike, it will probably be the stationary variety, and not the ripping through the trees on my new kick-ass mt. bike variety. I really don’t know what I’m going to do with my spare time. Or how I’ll relieve my stress, have deep thoughts as I wind through singletrack, or get very familiar with my iTunes playlist. Running, riding--being in the woods—feel as important to me as the act of sleeping. So I’m absolutely dreading the surgery, and really, really, really hoping that I’ll have a good marathon on Saturday.